Pride before
by letscall-l
Summary: Carter concentrates. -set after the froyo scene- Carter/Rosie, femslash/fluff


Pride before

_Fandom:_ Princess Protection Program

_Author:_ letscall_l

_Disclaimer_: I do not own or mean to offend.

_Pairing_: Rosie/Carter

**Warning**: femslash, fluff.

_Word Count_: 797

_Summary_: Carter concentrates.

* * *

"You can cry if you want to. I'm not one to judge on that."

Rosie has gloopy yogurt dripping off her back, and onto Carter's bedroom floor. Its sticking in her hair and on her unusually flawless face. Her bottom lip kept trembling no matter how high she held her head.

Carter dabbed at her green tinged face with a wet cloth, carefully, as Rosie blinked everytime she touched her. Like she was flinching from the contact. Days ago, Carter wouldn't have come near the princess, who had been dropped abruptly into her life and her bedroom, if you'd paid her. Now, after everything had hit the fan, she can't imagine _not_ helping her.

"What would crying accomplish?" Rosie quickly delivers. Carter isn't a fool. She knows Rosie's pride has been severely burned from the froyo disaster. She is a princess. But today she was a court jester to the crowd of cellphone carrying jerks, and maybe thousands on the internet after tonight. So Carter lets her believe.

"What does it accomplish when you do it at night?" Carter whispers to Rosie's back. Her fingers are untangling the dripping mess of hair that apparently used to be down to the girl's waist. The Princess stiffens and her hands clutch at her stomach. Carter concentrates on the hair and not how her eyes catch something small fall from Rosie's cheek. She's just like her really.

"Carter please-" She has too much pride. Desperate to cling onto her roots and values, which is a good thing; but when her voice is begging for Carter to stop an attack that wasn't going to come...then it wasn't worth holding onto.

"You should go take a shower."

Carter's hands drop away from Rosie's body and the Princess nods her head; _Thankyou._

* * *

_  
_

Rosie switches off her lamp before she moves to the spare bed. Rosie's bed.

Carter isn't asleep. The dark is the only time there isn't a huge floating spotlight on the royal girl. Its the only time and witness to the crumbling of her character.

Its worse tonight. Not only does the moist sorrow on her cheeks yearn for her home, her mother, her _Costa Luna_ - but to be rid of the harsh memory of the humiliation. A feeling Carter knows all too well.

Rosie is quiet when she cries. Its almost typical. Only the faintest of sobs escape her mouth. Always concerned, always hiding; even as the dam is threatening to break. Carter looks over once before anything. The Princess' tears shine in the night's pale moon. Diamond droplets that would otherwise make anyone else look like a trainwreck. Even when she cries Rosie manages to look perfect.

Carter watches her momentarily as Rosie sits up. Her eyes, brimming, search out the window for her country, for guidance from some unknown star. Completely going against her admission to Carter. Its painful. Its heartbreaking. But to Carter its _beautiful._

Rosie's sniffling cries, though almost inaudible, cover Carter's shuffling movements. From her padding feet, to rustling sheets. Rosie only turns to see her; pajama shirt falling off a thin shoulder, hair ruffled in a pony - when Carter's warm hand pushes her; gently, into lying down.

"Carter-" She whispers in a tear laced disbelief. It accomplishes nothing, Carter's eyes tell her, but it accomplishes everything. The tomboy's touch feels the football shirt material under her fingers. So many memories.

Rosie's eyes glint and flicker. Pride. Need. Hurt. Comfort. But most of all 'yes'.

"Rosie please-" Carter's tone imitates the one Rosie had delivered earlier. She's desperate now. She's wanting and she's there. She's there for her.

Bodies slide over and a patterned quilt, that was hand made long before it was a two-person household, is pulled over bronze legs and shuddering chests. Carter ignores the obvious questions and tucks Rosie's arm around her waist. The Princess closes her eyes and blinks out the last of her tears. Carter feels the warmth of the sad girl return in their embrace.

Rosie moves closer, her chin bumps awkwardly, but fits like a missing puzzle piece; on Carter's collarbone.

Carter's fingers find Rosie's drying- yogurt-free hair.

"Its okay to cry."

She feels a nod. The exposed skin of her neck, from were her shirt was still slipped off her chest, is a canvas to a wandering finger. And then a kiss.

It sends a shooting star across Carter's eyes. Rosie lingers in her arms, there until morning, when the sun will find them tangled and hot. But together.

The night shows them everything first.

"I know Carter."

fin.


End file.
